A Study in Mystrade
by Ana of Rohan
Summary: Written for the 30 day OTP challenge on tumblr. A collection of ficlets detailing the relationship between one DI Lestrade and The Government Official Mycroft Holmes.
1. Holding Hands

Hi, wow it's been a long time since I have written anything. Uhm, as you can see I have delved into the world of Sherlock. This was written as a challenge and will be a total of 30 chapters of short ficlets. Just trying to get in the swing of things again. Read, Review, Enjoy please! Thank you darlings.

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10 months into their relationship and Greg was getting tired. Mycroft had a list of rules. _Everyone needs a code to live by._

_1. Work unfortunately had to come first._  
_2. Sex is a bedroom activity only. (Not that Greg hadn't tried to break that one.)_  
_3. No fighting in public. Not everyone should be privy to their business. And both men had a reputation to uphold._  
_4. No public displays of affection, including hand holding and kissing._

The last one always killed Greg. He should be able to show and tell everyone Mycroft was his. He understood Mycroft's need for control over all situations, but rules be damned. And unfortunately it came to a head during Scotland Yard's annual Christmas party. Mycroft's usual charms blew right into the minds and hearts of a few of the younger Detectives. In a fit of jealousy, without a second thought, Greg grabbed Mycroft's hand.

Mycroft pulled his hand away angrily, "This is not the time, _Gregory_."

The emphasis on his name only made the DI even more upset. "Fine Myc, have it your way like always." Mycroft could see the pain on his boyfriend's face, but couldn't understand it. He was a Detective, shouldn't he understand the need to maintain rules.

"Gregory—"

"No Mycroft, I think you've made your point very clear," DI Lestrade scowled, turning his back to the younger man and sighed. Mycroft licked his lips nervously. The entire room stopped to listen and watch the ensuing drama. He took a deep breath and grabbed Greg's hand, pulling him towards him.

"Greg, I am sorry," Mycroft cleared his throat, suddenly dry. Realizing the moment needed some privacy, Greg pulled his boyfriend out of the room.

"Mycroft. I can't do this. I can't sit idly by and watch you charm the pants off someone and I can't do a bloody thing about it. I love you too much.." Greg trailed off. Mycroft pulled him close and wrapped his arms around him.

"Shall we head back, can't have people talking," Mycroft said, threading their fingers together.

Greg looked at their hands and then into Mycroft's eyes, "Are you sure?"

"Rules are meant to be broken Gregory, isn't Sherlock proof enough of that?"

Greg pulled him in for a chaste kiss, "I love you."

"I love you too."

As they walked back, hand in hand, Gregory leaned in close and whispered, "You know, there is another rule I'd love to break."

Greg chuckled as a blush crept up Mycroft's face, ears tinted pink.


	2. Cuddling

Ok so this one took me longer then I expected, you can blame it on hilarious skype dates with my girl Ber. Uh this one is super super angsty. Warning Major Character death. The prompt was cuddling. How I got super angst from this I will never know. I mean you can blame that on** Tori of Lorien**. Miss Queen of cliffhangers. So Uh, Thank all of you who favorited or alerted or review on the story! It means the world to me! :) I hope you enjoy. PS no beta, just stream of conscious stories. Read, Review, Enjoy!

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"No. No. No," Mycroft said angrily, pacing around the waiting room. 'You must be mistaken."

The doctor looked on, the posh looking man tapping his umbrella every second step.

"Gregory has been shot before. What makes this so different!?" Mycroft demanded.

"The bullet passed through the left side of his head. The extent of the brain damage is unknown. And he was badly beaten, he has 3 broken ribs one of which punctured his right lung. And even still, we can't tell the full extent of his injuries. Until he is stable there isn't much we can do but keep him sedated."

Mycroft dropped his head, his husband of a year, strapped up to a million machines, life hanging in the balance. He licked his lips, "May I see him?"

The doctor glanced down and gestured to the third door on the left. Mycroft stopped and stared for a minute before bolting the short distance. He glanced down and opened the door slowly.

Entering the room, the tears sprung to his eyes. Greg had a tube down his throat, IVs in his arms, a massive bandage wrapped around his head and was littered in bruises and cuts. Sitting in the chair next to his husband, he gingerly grabbed Greg's left hand. The cool metal of the wedding band icy in his hot hands.

"Oh Gregory, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" Mycroft asked. "You promised. I only wanted one thing from you. You said always. You would never leave… So please. For me. Don't leave me."

Mycroft could have sworn he felt a flutter of his husband's fingers. Moving the arm gently, Mycroft crawled in bed. Kissing Greg's cheek and getting as comfortable as possible, he let a few stray tears fall.

"Think of the life we could have. Children. Maybe a house out in the country. But please. I can't stand to see you in pain. Do what you have to… I love you. I will always love you."

He nuzzled into Greg's side, silence taking over the room. The steady beep from the heart monitor lulling Mycroft into an uneasy doze. His eyes shot open as he heard the alert flat line.

"No no no no, Greg! Help!"

As the doctors rushed in, Mycroft's world collapsed around him. Voices everywhere, a pair of gentle hands leading him from the room. As the door shut, Mycroft fell to his knees. Never a man of faith, he prayed like he had never before.

_I can't live without him. Please God, whatever happens just… help him. I can't see him in pain. Whatever that means, just… Please._

He shakily stood as the doctor walked out. There wasn't a need for any words. The doctor shook his head and Mycroft rushed in.

He stopped dead in his tracks, nearly toppling over. Greg's head lolled to the side, tube removed from his throat. He was gone. His husband was dead. They just celebrated their 1 year anniversary the month before. No. He couldn't be gone. Mycroft got closer and finally sat on the edge of the bed. Leaning over, he kissed his husband's cold lips one last time.

"I am so sorry Greg. I love you."

He pulled the gold band from Greg's hand, and walked out the door. As he stepped back in the waiting room, he noticed Sherlock sitting by the door. He straightened his waistcoat, pocketed the ring and walked out, not saying a word to his younger brother.


End file.
